Coffee Dance
by SugarAngel6493
Summary: Welcome to Starbucks, may I take your order? Yes, I'll have, ah, one Vente Tweek with whippedcream. Oh, and a biscotti.
1. In which there is a SexFest

It had been days, really. Days since Craig had brought the idea of even facing this fear and trying to fight this battle into his little head. But to Tweek, it seemed like months. He was filled with paranoia, different then the kind he would get when he was eight that revolved around gnomes and disappearing underwear and how the two were connected.

That's not to say he didn't still think about just where that one really nice pair went to, but he tried not to focus on it so much.

But the paranoia he'd had more recently went more along the lines of trying to brush his hair down, buttoning his shirt right, and not twitching so much when he sat in the office of the man who he soon hoped would be his boss. He wasn't too successful.

"So," the stout, executive-type man said as he fell into his comfy looking chair. "You want t' work here, eh?"

Tweek flushed, considering what an understatement it was, and resisted the urge to jump up out of his plastic chair, scream about it being too much pressure, and running like hell.

"Yessir." He said very quickly and hoped that there wouldn't be a written test. He _hated_ tests, he usually ended up snapping his pencil from gripping it so hard.

"Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm." The man said, looking thoughtful as he rubbed a three-day-beard. Every muscle in Tweek's body tightened, preparing for a horrible defeat.

"Ok." The man said evenly and stood up again. Tweek blinked, confused, and then remembered that he was supposed to shake hands. After he did, he also remembered that he just got his dream job.

"OhmigodareyouseriousthisisAWESOME!" He shook the man's hand more excitedly and smiled all over. The man looked bored with this, and took back his hand.

"Be here Saturday, at 7 o' clock. That's when the creepy, nocturnal pill-popper gets off his shift." Tweek still couldn't believe and had no words left in him. He nodded so fast he thought his head would pop right off, which made him immediately stop. He took a breath and remembered what he was told to say, leaving out the cocky sarcasm,

"Thank you very much, sir."

And he got the door slammed in his face. He stared a minute, still smiling, with his eyes going over the words, 'Manager's Office' ten times without processing them. Then, he turned round and walked by the counter he would soon be standing at without giving it a second glance. He still had things to do.

But just before he walked out the door, he grabbed a green apron and a blank I.D. pin. Swiftly, he pulled out his Sharpie and wrote in his scribbled handwriting, 'Tweek Tweak'. And even though only one person would be able to read it, it still felt right like that.

Then he rushed to that person's house, in that person's father's truck, to tell him the news. He repeated the words in his head and a few times mouthing it while he shook with an amazing source of raw, anxious energy.

'I'm working at Starbucks now.'

---

Tweek was later hanging off the couch, upside-down, with his shirt pulled halfway up, being kissed by the boy who was the source of all his happiness.

Craig let up on Tweek's already overly abused lips and grinned at him upside down.

"I still can't believe I pulled it off." Said Tweek as his fingers twitched on the floor. He smiled proudly, which would look nervous to anyone else.

"God, Tweek. I can tell. You're _still_ shaking like crazy. And you're pink like nothing else." He cocked an eyebrow.

Tweek grinned back. "And what makes you think that's _just_ from getting the best job ever?"

Craig had a quick comeback. "Because I haven't even gotten all of your shirt off." His hands moved up to drum on Tweek's belly, making the tiny blond giggle in a very not-manly way. "I told you that you could totally nail this job." Which only made Tweek smile more.

"What should we do to celebrate? I don't start work 'til Saturday, so we have a few days to just waste time still." He playfully brought up one of his hands to pull Craig closer by the front of his shirt.

Craig grinned, the kind of grin that anyone could tell had dirty things behind it. "Aw, man. So much to do, so little time. But I guess we could just… Hmm, go at it non-stop like wild animals." Craig had gotten better and better at thinking of things to say.

"Non-stop, you say? Like wild animals, you say? Weeeeelllllll, I don't know… I should really check my calendar to see if there are any activities I may need to do in the daylight." Tweek had gotten better at putting out full sentences that had no up and down on the pitch of his voice.

"Aw, you can just cancel any of those over the phone during a water break." Craig offered, wiggling his eyebrows to convince the other.

Tweek seemed to still be thinking it over. Then he shrugged, which was a bad idea considering his position, and just made him slide down some, and said, "Ok, then".

With that answer to say everything was consensual and legal, Craig gave Tweek a victory smooch just before the boy slid all the way off the sofa and knocked Craig over.

---

Craig had stuck to his word. They both spent the next two days in Craig's room with muffled noises that would have been heard coming through the walls, but luckily Craig's family were visiting some relative or another, and he had very conveniently come down with the flu. The only conversations that didn't revolve around things that could NEVER be on public television were Craig and his mother's over the phone conversations that made up of half of the breaks Tweek and Craig had. They went like this to what Tweek heard:

"Hey mom." Fake cough. "Yeah, still sick. Oh yea, fever of 99.9. No, you don't need to come home. Really. Yes, really. REALLY mom. I'm fine. Yeah. Yeah, I know there's chicken soup in the pantry. Ok. Say hi to everyone for me. Bye."

And then:

"Hello? Yeah, uh, I probably do sound funny. It's a… sore throat. Yeah, I know where the cough syrup is. No, I wont take too much. No mom, I haven't used cough syrup to get high since I was nine, ok? Yeah. No, it's ok. No, just have a good time over there in… in… wherever you guys are. Ok, see you Sunday. Bye mom."

And then:

"YEAH MOM?? No, mom, I'm ok. Yeah, still the sore throat. No, it's not strip. Mom, I got to go, I, uh, I'm about to puke. …Yeah, I'll warm up the chicken in the fridge for dinner. No, I'm not going to be another one of those anorexic-Waitaminute, mom. Tweek is NOT bulimic. I would just KNOW, ok? Yeah. Ok. Bye."

Each time Craig's mom called, Tweek used the time to get up, pull on whatever pair of pants was closest to him, and get them both some water and Ritz crackers.

This pattern went on until Friday, when just after Tweek came back with the water and was about to unzip Craig's jeans he's picked up.

First he looked at Craig who was trying to convince his mom that his Aunt so and so needed them all to be there a few days longer and that he should be quarantined in the house, alone. Then his gaze traveled down to the disarray for sheets and blankets on the bed (and off the bed). With a beat of white noise in his head, Tweek very unsuccessfully tried not to scream out.

Craig jumped up in his spot on the bed, and then quickly rebounded with his mom by saying he sneezed and yes, it did sound like a shrill scream when he sneezed. Then he came up with some excuse and hung up the phone.

"What the hell?" He said to Tweek who was trying to gather himself off the floor.

"Th-th-th-the BED. The bed, oh god, the bed." Craig blinked and looked at the bed, assuming there would be something horrible and vile there by the way Tweek sounded. Alas, it was just a very, very messy bed.

"It's sooooo disgusting. All the sweat and the breath and the GERMS and the dead skin and oh my GOD." Tweek was taken over with violent shaking, which he tried to regain control.

Craig, once again, seemed unfazed and merely blinked. After a few seconds, he got up, pulled on some pants, and threw Tweek a shirt.

"C'mon, we'll go to your house for the remainder of our sex-fest. Plus we can have a shower before we go at it again."

---


	2. In which Craig is at Clyde's feet

Saturday came around, not that Tweek and Craig noticed right away. It was around three in the morning; Craig was admiring the bite marks he'd made from the tiny blond's neck down his collarbone, and was wondering where he would make his mark next. Tweek was high on sex and feeling rather misty.

He wasn't sure how, but Tweek glanced at his clock and processed that it was almost daybreak. He freaked out, sat up quick, and nicked Craig with his shoulder all at once.

"OHMIGOD!"

"Ow. What?"

"It's THREE AM!"

"…Yeah? Good for us. Let's see what time it is later and cheer about that too."

"No, no, nonono. Craig, it's THREE in the MORNING. I have to be at work in four and a half hours, and I haven't slept in four days, and I'm going to lose this job before I even have it and-" Tweek makes hyperventilating a skill.

Craig rubbed Tweek's back in the way that he does. "It's ok, calm down."

"Bu-bu-bu-" Tweek was near tears. All he could think of was him finally getting to work in his Holy Land and having it get pulled away so easily.

"Shh. It's alright. Breathe." Tweek did. "When does your shift end?"

"A-at about four, bu-"

"Hush." Tweek did. "Ok, so you're only working for, like, eight hours. Don't worry about it. I'll take care of it." He smiled, confident. Tweek was still worried, understandably, but he was a little calmer then before.

Craig has a way of keeping Tweek under control, sort of like how Token has a way of getting Tweek into really bad situations and how Bebe has a way of creeping him out.

Tweek must have been looking worse, because Craig rubbed his back a little more before standing up and reaching for his clothes.

"Where're you going?" Tweek really didn't want to be left with his worry.

"I need to pick something up from the 24/7. I think you should stay here." Tweek looked much, much more paranoid. Like Craig was conceiving against him. "Before you flip out, don't worry. I just don't want you falling asleep in the truck while I drive around. Rides knock you out like nothing else… Well. Not NOTHING else." He grinned as he picked up his keys from the dresser.

Tweek tried to smile and to look like he wasn't worried.

"I'll be back soon enough. Don't go to sleep, though. If you'll only get four hours, you'll feel much worse that if you didn't sleep at all. Ok?" Tweek nodded and Craig seemed satisfied as he left.

---

Tweek sat on top of his bed that he'd made and remade eleven times and stared at the clock. It had already been forty-five minutes. The 24/7 was right around the corner. As much as Tweek wanted to, he resisted the urge to just walk down there and see if Craig really was just getting something, or was off somewhere thinking of how much he despised Tweek or with whoever he was cheating on Tweek with and oh GOD where was he??

Tweek tried to push all that back. He'd talked to Craig about that tons of times. About everything. Tons of times. Nothing bad was going on, no big horrible conspiracies, no death plots, and absolutely NO secret affairs. He was just doing that thing Craig said once. 'Overanalyzing'.

So he did what Craig told him to do when he gets like this. Breathe. Close your eyes. Breathe. Open them.

He rubbed his arms, feeling suddenly very cold. Then he counted the positives.

He was about to have the best job in the world. He's got the best boyfriend in the universe. He hasn't been in any drag races in weeks. Things were pretty good right now.

Tweek laid back and stared at the headboard blankly. He couldn't help but think of all those bad things at one point or another. He just would have to put them back for now.

Finally he heard the front door open.

He sat up just as Craig walked into his room. At first he was smiling, but then looked at Tweek and a look of concern replaced it. "Tweek?" He said, a gentle tone replacing what is a usually playful one. "What's wrong?"

Tweek was puzzled and reached up under his eyes, and felt wetness.

"Oh… I'm… not sure." He wiped it away and smiled up at Craig. "So, what did you get?"

Craig was hesitant. But he let it go and smiled, which made Tweek feel much better. "Ok, you'll be fine at work today."

---

At 7:20, Craig drove Tweek to work, afraid he would crash into a tree.

At 7:26, they both arrived at Starbucks.

At 7:28, Craig gave Tweek two MiniThins, which are little pills that keep you awake.

At 7:29, Tweek was wearing his green apron and proudly pining on his I.D.

At 7:30, Tweek stood at the counter while Craig sat two tables away and the creepy nocturnal pill-popping guy was failing to hit on him.

At 7:32, Tweek's new boss stumbled into work, drunk.

"Uh… Sir?" Tweek said, wondering if it was the hangover kind of drunk or the falling over kind of drunk. Getting a moan in response, he guessed it was the former.

"EH??" Tweek flinched as the fumbling drunk whipped around to give Tweek the evil eye. "Y' damn kids, always furggle..shmminer…" He trailed off and wandered toward his office. He hit the wall a few times, but finally made it into the doorway. Just as the door closed, Craig clapped at the manager's heroic efforts.

"And you were worried about being late."

---

Tweek was on coffee break at 12:45, which seemed ironic to Craig considering his whole job was once big coffee break. To Tweek, it seemed perfect, because the MiniThins Craig had given him were starting to wear off. So, he made himself a Vanilla Mocha Frappathingy and sat down with Craig.

"I think the best part of this job for you is the free cup of coffee you get everyday." Craig mused. Tweek smiled and took a sip.

"It is today. God, I can't believe I haven't had coffee in a week. First so I wasn't so jittery at the interview, and then the whole celebration thing…" He took another sip. "This is so good."

Craig watched Tweek enjoy his coffee with a grin. "So, what are the other privileges you get with this job? A back room maybe?" Tweek smirked.

"Yeah, a tiny, dark backroom that has no door on it and is full of crates of everlasting coffee cups and stirrers."

"Hmmm, sounds kind of kinky."

---

At 1:02, Tweek threw Craig out of the back room and stumbled back behind the counter. While he was busy with a customer who, 'didn't have no time fer a whole dang two minutes of waiting fer some service', Craig tumbled to the feet of someone familiar.

Clyde stared down at Craig, expectantly. "…Craig?"

"CLYDE!" Craig squeaked and tried to regain himself. "Uh. What are… you… doing here?" He grinned and tried to seem as casual as someone who just fell to the feet of another after nibbling on a Tweek could.

Clyde shook his Starbuck Coffee cup in Craig's face. "I'm a paying customer. Unlike some bum I know." He took a sip and stared down at the other. "What brings you to the… floor."

"Ooooh," he tried to look comfortable, which was hard since the tiles at Starbucks were made of god knows what kind of cement. "Not much. Just… hanging around."

Craig wasn't winning Clyde over too much. "Stand up, Craig. I'm not going to try and converse with someone who's a flinch away from bowing at my feet." Craig gladly got up and took the seat next to the other.

"So," Clyde resisted a grin. "I see your style has changed to that of… Tweek?"

"Wu-" Craig looked down at himself. In the background, a wide-eyed blond was clenching the counter while looking at the shirt Craig was wearing. It was baby blue, two sizes too small, and had a tiny white heart on the breast. It was also on Tweek half an hour ago.

"Oh… Uh… Yeah. I thought, it'd, you know, be a… statement." Craig fumbled with his new shirt, very awkwardly. He would never live this one down. Damn it, he just had to rush and grab whatever shirt was closest to his when Tweek saw that he was late.

Clyde couldn't hold it back anymore, and a snicker slipped past him. "A statement huh? Well… that certainly is something." He finished his coffee and smirked at Craig. "I gotta go, Craig. But it was… fun talking. See ya."

Craig watch Clyde go and sighed heavily. Then he turned around to face Tweek, who was shaking with laughter instead of the usual fear of everything.

"Give me back my shirt, Tweek."

---


	3. In which Stripe sees too much

Tweek had been pretty calm on his first day, minus the twitching, the spasms every time someone walked through the door, and the occasion all scream of, 'oh god, oh god, I can't remember how to turn off the coffee machine, oh god'. Of course, Tweek was much better off than if he was going at it alone.

Which is the exact thing he went through on Sunday, when Craig's family came back home.

Craig had spent all of Saturday afternoon looking at photos, being told of what fun they had, and what's been going on with Aunt so-and-so. Frankly, he wanted to shoot himself. Tweek was in the same boat.

He could barely stand it and spent most of the morning in a ball on the floor behind the counter. Finally, he just got sick of it. So he fixed himself a white mocha and left.

He walked all around South Park, which didn't take that long.

He passed by Cartman, and upon seeing him Tweek tried to make himself invisible. But Cartman was more preoccupied at the time. He was spruced up, hair combed neat and tidy, even ironed his shirt for christ's sake. He mumbled some rehearsed words to a bouquet of red roses. A huge one. Must have cost him at least all of the money he made selling aborted fetuses. Tweek seemed confused by the sight, but cared not to try and find out. He stood a few yards away, unnoticed, while he watched Cartman suddenly look up at the hill he was by, then the tree, then back to the hill. With determination, he trudged up. Still, Tweek was not brave enough to bother with walking into the lion's den, so he walked on.

Somehow, he ended up at the mall. It was odd, because Tweek hated the mall. Huge crowds. Anonymous faces. And so. Many. Bags. Who KNOWS what's in those bags?? And trusting people he didn't know was not Tweek's thing. Thanks to the Ghost of Human Kindness.

Tweek stared up at the mall, which loomed as much as a building can in South Park. He took a deep breath, and decided that maybe the mall could take his mind off of Craig.

After twenty minutes of wandering the mall and trying not to scream every time a person bumped into him.

He eventually found the food court, where Stan, Kyle, and Kenny sat. They were at least neutral ground, so Tweek thought he might go for it.

"H-hey, guys." Stan and Kyle turned around in synch. Stan seemed a little disappointed, but didn't say anything. Kyle glared at him for that.

Then Kyle looked up to Tweek and smiled good-naturedly. "Hey Tweek. What's up?" Tweek shrugged and noticed it had been a while since he had spoken to any of the four of them. He could at least have the decency to actually converse if he was going to bother them like this. So he tried.

"Well-"

Ten minutes later, Tweek was half stumbling half running out of the food court. _Well, crap, that went horribly._

He winded up running slam into Token.

"Hey, man." Token grinned as he straightened Tweek up. "Where have you been the past week?"

Tweek flushed, remembering the honest truth of where he was. Then he picked it up, "Oh, you know, just… Lying… Around." He cleared his throat. "I got a new job." Token nodded, giving Tweek one of those, 'I know you're up to something but I wont ask what' looks.

"Ok," Token said. "Sure. But I bet you weren't just lying around. I bet you were up to something pretty…" His grin stretched. "Interesting." He laughed and patted Tweek on the back a little too hard.

"Uh… yeah. He he he."

"So, I'll let it go, if…"

---

Craig had narrowly escaped his mom's grasp on how much fun it was buying grapefruit out of town and the rash his dad got and what the hell happened to all the Ritz crackers.

Immediately, he went to the Starbucks. But there was no Tweek to be found. So he took his dad's truck to the Tweak residents, but there was no one home at all.

So Tweek was wandering around somewhere. Fine. He would turn up eventually.

Craig drove down to Clyde's house to take care of some unfinished business.

"Craig known as Wide Angle Lens known as Action Man known as Floor Lover known as Fiery Boy in the Baby Blue?"

"Clyde."

Craig walked in and went straight to Clyde's room. "Don't you have any manners?" Craig ignored him and crawled over the other's bed to the nightstand.

"You're been feeding him right? If he's dead, I swear to God, Clyde…" He picked up the cage and set it down in his lap. Craig looked over to Clyde before opening it, to which Clyde very quickly looked away. "…Sick-o." He opened it up, dug around a little, and pulled out Stripe.

Clyde glared, a little offended, but let it slide. "Goddamn, that guinea pig is old, Craig. I don't think he'll ever die." Craig rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. I got to go." He put Stripe back in his cage and locked it.

"Hey, wait." Clyde stopped Craig at the doorway, kicking it shut in case he tried some manuver. "So, you dump your stupid rat on me", He grabbed Craig's wrist as it came up to smack him. "Then you disappear for a week, and you show back up on the floor of a coffee shop? What's going on with you man?"

He gave Clyde a look for a second, then sighed and relaxed a little. Even chuckled a bit. "Man…" Craig didn't really know what to say. He was screwing his best friend non-stop for the past four days? Not. That. So, because he couldn't think of anything to say after the, 'man', he didn't say anything for a few minutes. They both stood, Craig's wrist still being clenched, Stripe's cage in Craig's other arm, and Clyde waiting expectantly.

Clyde sighed, fed up. "Fine. Whatever." So, instead of pushing the issue, he walked Craig backwards, very gently took the cage from his hand and put it on the floor, then before Craig could ask what the hell he was doing, tipped him backwards onto his bed and got on top of him.

"Clyde, what the FU-" But Clyde easily interrupted Craig with his own lips.

---

Tweek was standing on the mall's roof, wearing goggles and a parachute backpack. Token was standing by, looking down at the rush hour traffic.

"Ohgodohgodohgod."

"Hm. Look at all those cars. Going forty miles an hour. Juuuuust next to the target." Token pointed to the tiny red target that was only a few feet away from the street. There were already a few people standing around it, looking up and chattering about the events they were told to take place.

"Why aren't YOU jumping?" Tweek was shaking worse than ever.

"Pfft. You kidding? I could get KILLED. Screw that." He laughed and patted Tweek on the back. "You'll be fine." Then, with another, harder pat on the back, Tweek fell very ungracefully.

---


	4. In which Tweek is PMSing

Tweek laid in the hospital room, stubbornly wearing his clothes instead of the gown the offered. He _knew_ the filthy things that have touched those gowns.

So, he lay in his bed, flicking through the channels on the tiny TV, and wondering where the HELL Craig was.

He hadn't spoken to him at all today. And Craig must have known he was in the hospital. People had cameras when Tweek was remembering how to open a chute, and probably wasted no time putting them all over the Internet. The News team arrived while Tweek's parachute was caught on a corner of the building, still two stories up, and because there was nothing else going on (naturally) they put it on Live and replayed it over and over and OVER. Not to mention, everyone was talking about the best part, when the chute tore and Tweek ended up landing in a bush, which barely saved him a broken leg.

It was sprained though, along with his twisted arm from flailing it in the chute for half an hour. Which is why he was in the hospital at all.

Tweek reminded himself to calm down. Craig had told him; when he was driving him home after work that he would be at home all day looking at photos with thumbs on the lens. He was probably still there. Dying with boredom. Wishing he were with Tweek.

But, he was Tweek, and every worry he never wanted to think about came rushing into his head. All he could think of was that Craig was cheating on him. And the sex was way better.

He weighed the logic and knew that that could never happen. Craig told him that tons of times that it wouldn't. And he could trust Craig. He knew that more than anything.

---

While Tweek was getting into a cherry picker, Craig was underneath Clyde, panting, and wondering if Stripe would tell anyone anything he saw. He decided no, and made a pleased noise as Craig came up to chew on his bottom lip. And he just let him. Because he didn't even realize what was going on.

Twenty minutes later, Craig's cell phone rang to the tune of, 'Everything is Alright'. He barely heard it, but right as the chorus came on, it clicked in his brain. He pushed Clyde off, who was disgruntled to be interrupted, and answered.

"Where ARE you??" Craig was confused at first, because Tweek didn't sound scared. Then he remembered where he was, what he was doing, and whom he should have been with at the time. And he realized, Tweek, for once, was angry.

"I… I…"

"I'll tell you where you AREN'T: at home, at Starbucks looking for me, at my house, and more than likely not anywhere in the general outside. Oh, and here's the kicker, not in the hospital room that I've been in for the past HOUR."

"Wait-WHAT? Hospital?" Clyde cocked an eyebrow as he picked Craig's shirt off the ground and handed it to him. "Wh-What happened?"

"Well, gee, Craig, if you could have been there for me, maybe you would know."

Craig's face turned red very steadily as this conversation went on. "BEEN THERE FOR YOU? I'm there for you ALL the fucking TIME, Tweek. And I would have been again if… if…" He lost track of his point somewhere. Silence buzzed in the phone and he wondered if maybe Tweek had hung up. Then, a crack of a broken sob slipped in, and Craig went back to his normal color in an instant.

"Well. That's just great, Craig. Just fucking great. I'm SO glad that you need a vacation from me every now and then. But maybe, just maybe, if you cared at all about this relationship, you could have changed you trip to Malibu for a time other than when I've only been working at my form of Heaven for more than a day. Maybe I wouldn't have fallen apart, clocked out four hours early, and went to the mall where I found Token, who decided to convince me to parachute off of the mall's roof." Tweek knew that this didn't make much of an argument, but didn't care.

Craig wilted. He could just imagine Tweek sitting in a hospital room, crying while on the phone with his supposed boyfriend who happens to be half naked in Clyde's room.

"I…" He had nothing to say. Nothing he could say. What, he ditched Tweek to make out with Clyde? Perfect.

"Forget it, Craig… Just…" He laughed, a sad sort of laugh. Tweek asked himself why he was being so emotional. It wasn't the first time Token's gotten him into a hospital bed. And he couldn't expect Craig to be there all the time, holding his hand.

"Sorry, Craig. Really. Sorry. I… I didn't mean it. I don't know. Just feeling… Intense, I guess… It's not your fault. The meds they gave me, the painkillers, they're probably making me hormonal, or something. Are you mad?"

Craig wiped at his soggy vision and tried to laugh a little. "No, ah, it's fine. When do you get out of the hospital, I can pick you up?"

While Craig talked with Tweek on the phone, Clyde slipped out of the room and stood in the hallways, kicking himself for being such a jackass. What the hell was his problem? He knew what was going on, it was so obvious. How could he just do that? He knows Craig can resist a good bite here and there. Damn it. Now Craig's going to feel awkward or livid toward him, and he'll feel guilty and bad around Tweek. He sighed and walked back into the room just as Craig closed his phone.

"Hey, uh…" Craig sniffed and pulled on his shirt. "Is it ok if I go? Tweek's in the hospital. Apparently, Token got him to parachute off a roof, and he sprained his leg and stuff. I got to pick him up." He looked at Craig like he hadn't just had the other nibbling on his earlobe. Clyde tried to look just as indifferent.

"Yeah, sure. No problem, man."

Craig nodded and picked up Stripe's cage. He saw that Stripe was hiding in his little tube, peering out curiously. He wanted to laugh, but couldn't.

"See you." He said as he passed Clyde, who seemed very flushed.

"Bye."

---

_And now, a short diversion._

---

Cartman came storming into the food court, still picking rose petals out of his shirt, which he was also untucking while he cursed under his breath. He grabbed a tray of some poor sap's food as it was being handed to them, and slammed it down on the guys' table, sitting down in a huff.

"Dude," Kyle said, giving him a look of confusion. "What happened with Wendy?" Cartman snarled and took some of Kyle's curly fries for mentioning what he was despising at the moment. Kyle just let him have it, waiting for an answer.

"That gaddamn hippie… I gave her the stupid flowers and I said all that crappy romantic shit I wrote down from all those cheesy movies…" He opened up the wrapped burger, hoping it was a double cheese, double bacon supreme. "And you know what she did? He threw the roses at me- the ones I paid for with MY hard earned cash- and said that the Titanic was sexist and she REFUSED to be discriminated as a woman by being treated as a standard, 'damsel'. Then she just left! I go to all that trouble, try and be nice, and she gets PMS-y on me."

The whole table sat in silence after that, minus Cartman's loud chomping of the weak plain burger. Kyle stared at Cartman, then turned to Stan, only to find that Stan was trying not to laugh. His face was completely red, his shoulder's were shaking, and he was trying to hide his face and not be noticed. Kyle sighed and turned back to Cartman, who was gulping down his drink.

"So… Tweek was here earlier. And then he jumped off the roof." Cartman barely grunted a reply, and then recommended that they go to the arcade so he could vent some of his anger on cheap video games.


	5. In which Craig feels like a dibshit

Craig stood outside the hospital room, feeling incredibly stupid. Stupid and jerky.

He'd think of more clever words to describe his feeling if he wasn't thinking of more important things.

What would he say? What could he say? He had no clue. He sat outside he room and thought of anything to open conversation with. Maybe an icebreaker he used in the past.

All he could think of was flipping everyone off.

Damn his ineptitude in social skills.

No. No. No, no, no, goddamnit no.

He sighed. It'd be up to Tweek.

He took a minute to cross his fingers, hopping it wasn't as bad as it should have been, then he went in.

"Craig? Geez, it took you forever." Tweek sat up, pressing the nurse-call button near his bed. Craig smiled a bit, hearing the cheeriness in Tweek's voice. "Get me the hell outta here."

A nurse came in and pulled out the I.V. "You're ready to go, baby-cakes." She said, a bit flirty. Tweek didn't hear it. "You're folks came by earlier and signed you out, right?" Tweek nodded.

Craig blinked, confused. "Wait, Tweek. If your parents came, then why… didn't… you…?" The nurse left and Tweek stood up difficultly.

"Let's go. I didn't sleep when I was here, even with the I.V. so I'm exhausted." Jumping off a building can do that to you.

Craig nodded and started toward the door, helping Tweek with his cased ankle along. "Why would you stay though? You hate hospitals."

Tweek rolled his eyes, with a twitch. "You're slow."

Craig was about to say another ass-hat comment when Tweek covered it with his own mouth. A fleeting moment of happiness hit Craig, and then he remembered Clyde.

Oh shit.

Guiltily, Craig pulled Tweek away. He grinned, trying to cover it up. "Let's go, ok?" Tweek hesitated, but turned back to his cot to get his folded clothes.

While getting dressed, Tweek didn't stop apologizing for everything. Being impatient when he was at work, for jumping off the roof, for the phone call, everything. There was also a mention of the fight in grade school in there too. Tweek just would not shut up.

"For the last time Tweek, it's ok." They left the hospital and headed over to Tweek's house.

"Where are your parents?" Craig asked, nodding toward the empty driveway.

"Who knows?" Tweek shrugged, though a shudder escaped with a twitch. "I'm pretty sure they left me to die. I haven't seen them at all really. I don't even think they really even signed me out of the hospital."

The carelessness of the hospital in South Park, you wouldn't be surprised either.

After a while of them both sitting there, not-talking, Tweek finally spoke up again.

"Craig, really, I'm sorry about being so harsh on the phone."

Craig sighed, but smiled. "It's alright Tweek."

"No, it's just… After walking out of work, I ju-" He stopped, eyes wide.

"OHMIGODIWALKEDOUTOFWORK." He jumped up in his car seat, hitting his head. Before Craig could say, 'ouch' just for the sake of it, Tweek was back on his spasms. "Oh god, oh god, ohgodohgodohgod." He pulled at his hair with his one good hand and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop hyperventilating. Craig reached over and rubbed Tweek's back.

"It's ok."

"I'm gonna get fired and I'll never get this chance again and oh God my dream job is going down the drain and, and, and-"

"It's ok."

This went on for a while until Tweek was somewhat calmed down.

"Ok, it's ok. Ok?" Tweek nodded and Craig went on. "You won't get fired. It's alright. I'm pretty sure it's more then likely that your manager was passed out for most of the afternoon. Anyway, it's alright. You can do overtime and get back the hours, so money's not a problem. Don't worry. Relax."

Tweek nodded, logically, and breathed.

Breathe. Close you eyes. Breathe. Open them.

"You should go lay down. Calm down. Rest up." Which was true, but Craig also needed to talk to Clyde.

A lot.

Tweek nodded. Craig helped him to the house and to his room, when he laid Tweek down in bed.

As he was about to leave, Tweek spoke up, flustered and weak and just almost too much for Craig to bear.

"Craig…"

Tweek smiled a little, the nervous kind.

"Can you just… Stay? For a while?"

He tugged on Craig's jacket, the smile faded.

"Please?"

Craig, all guilt and backstabbing, he just sat down.

---

"…Hello?"

"Hey Token."

"Clyde? Hey, man, what's up?"

"Well… you know."

"Clyde? You ok? You sound really upset."

"Yeah, well…" He hiccupped on the end of the line.

"Hey… hey man, its cool. You can tell me, man."

"Well, uh… you won't believe me when I tell you this, but, ah… I may have kinda, a little bit, seduced Craig." Nervous laughter, or a weak sob, but Token's end was dead silent.

"You do realize that you're an asshole now, right?"

"Yeah."

"'Cuz you knew, man. You knew what was going on with him."

"Yeah."

"And Tweek… Does Tweek even know?"

"I don't know. But he'll _hate_ me." Another sob and Token wanted to call him a crybaby like in elementary school. But didn't.

"No, he wouldn't. He's not really the type to get mad. He'll more then likely feel betrayed by Craig if anything." Damn Token and his common sense.

"Oh man… I just… I hope Craig didn't tell him. I'm so embarrassed, I-"

"I know, man, I know. He might not have. You should talk to him."

"It was just so spontaneous, you know? I haven't done anything really. Sex-wise, I mean. Well, besides freshman year when we-"

"Yeah, that's not exactly NOT TALKING ABOUT IT, Clyde."

"Sorry."

"Ok."

"But I wasn't even thinking. I wouldn't do it again. I don't know why I even did."

"I know man. I've been there."

"He was just… right there. Ugh. I bet its hormones."

"Maybe."

"Well… Yeah, probably."

"Are you sure you're ok? Want me to come over?"

"I guess… Right now I really want to talk to Craig."

"Don't bother. He's probably with Tweek right now at the hospital."

"…That was YOU."

"Heh. You heard, eh?"

"…Can't say I'm not a little relieved you did it."

"What?"

"I'll explain when you get here."

"Ok. See ya."

"Bye."


	6. In which Tweek subtly tries to get drunk

To cleanse his conscience, to make Tweek know that he'd forgiven him for the phone call, and to generally stop being an ass as it seemed he had been doing all week, Craig drove Tweek out of South Park.

Craig's dad had been pretty disagreeable about Craig taking his truck to who-knows-where. But Craig convinced him that it was either that, or he finally got his own car.

Craig would do this every so often. He would basically kidnap Tweek from the horrors of South Park and take him somewhere amazing. It was always somewhere different each time, so that way it never became boring or touristy. And he would always bring his favorite camera and four or five lenses and filters.

The first time they did this was a bit difficult. Tweek didn't completely trust him still. This was like freshman year or something, and they'd barely been dating for four weeks. Tweek was still on a bad coffee buzz from his dad's coffee, which was before a Starbucks came into town. (After the Wal Mart disaster, the smarter citizens of South Park were wary to let a big corporation come into town, like Starbucks.) Also, Craig didn't have a license.

So it was pretty difficult. But he decided to go to a place of few cops and no coffee joints where it was quiet enough not to make Tweek flinch every minute.

He put the child lock on in Tweek's parents' car to keep Tweek from trying to escape and he drove them off into a tiny little patch of country a few hours away from home. Ok, a night's drive.

Tweek didn't stop twitching and spazzing out when they were on the freeway, but when Craig found a little back road he got a bit quieter. Still freaking out, but less vocal, really. He fell asleep finally in the passenger seat, reclined, listening to the radio.

By morning, Tweek woke up in the car, which was parked in the middle of a golden field. The grass was dry and tall, so unattended, it went up to Craig's shoulders, which is about up to Tweek's eyes.

Tweek's first reaction was to jump up and start screaming, but the moment Craig noticed Tweek's eyes open, he wrapped his arms around him. Which froze Tweek completely.

The only thing that could.

"It's ok," Craig had said, pulling Tweek to sit up in his arms. "We're here."

Craig coaxed Tweek out of the car and they walked a bit out into the field, leaving a trail of flattened grass. It went on for miles and miles all around. And it was so quiet. It was just nice.

Craig led Tweek as he walked subtly to the right when they were far enough out, and they just talked while Craig would snap a sudden shot of Tweek every now and then. After about half an hour of this, Craig stopped at the spot he started.

"Crop circle." He stated, grinning like a dork.

And for a moment, Tweek didn't think about abduction when he heard the word.

Craig pulled his camera out of his bag for the fifteenth time and told Tweek to smile. He did, as much as a hyped up teenager could, and Craig looked it over on the tiny screen.

"I thought you believed pictures like that are phony." He stated later on, burrowed into Craig lying across the back of the car.

"Yeah, but this one's for me." And he kissed Tweek right next to his mouth.

Tweek smiled for real then and said, "I won't tell anyone if you don't." And he kissed Craig on the lips for the first time.

Back to the present, and Craig was just thinking about all this while driving a very wistful Tweek on the feeder roads. Tweek was quiet and staring out the window and Craig was searching for something on the radio that was actually music.

When Tweek wasn't daydreaming, he would chime up a bit surprisingly and find something to apologize for. Clearly, he was still upset about the phone call. Things like,

"Hey, Craig? Remember the time I fell asleep at your house and the next morning your alarm clock didn't go off and we were both late for school? That was me. I'm sorry."

And Craig would say, "Its ok."

They drove on for a few more hours, every so often Tweek repenting a little bit more. By the time it was dark, Craig found what he was looking for.

It was a beach house. Big and dusty and looking abandoned, right there on the cold beach. The thing about beaches is that they aren't full of tourists when they aren't all 'fun in the sun'. So they were kind of peaceful.

"Whose house is this?" Tweek asked, amazed and looking it up and down as they climbed the stairs outside.

"Token's. But he hasn't used it since he was ten, so it's pretty much forgotten about." Craig tried the knob, which was a no go. Then he went around to the third sand covered window and like magic pulled a key out from under the sill.

"Wow."

"Yeah," Craig said, unlocking the door. "When we were kids, I made Token take me and Clyde with him one summer here. And I remembered where they kept the spare."

Walking in, Craig went into a back room while Tweek looked around the dim living room and tried to spy a light switch.

"So will they be mad about us using it?" He called out, settling for a stained glass-looking lamp.

After a bit of shuffling in the back and a loud crash, Craig came back out. "Not as mad as they will be about that." And he pulled out a bottle of century old wine from behind his back.

"The other one was better," He added, walking to the kitchen. "But it kind of had a little accident."

He went through several drawers and finally found a corn screw.

"It's a really nice place when it's clean, I swear. I wish we had known you better back then so you could have seen it." He twisted the screw and pulled out the cork with a notable POP.

"No," Tweek said, smiling at Craig over the bar. "I think it's really nice like this."

Craig smiled back, glad to get a positive response. "Wanna go look around upstairs? I think they have a pool table, unless they got rid of it."

Tweek nodded, leading Craig up. "It's really big…" He sounded nervous and Craig took it as his cue. He stopped Tweek, handing him the bottle, and went up. After a moment of fumbling around, the lights turned on.

Tweek sighed lightly with relief and went the rest of the way up.

Craig wasn't in sight though, so Tweek called out, freaked out. "Craig??"

"I'm in here!" Craig called out of a room down a hall.

Tweek found him in a bedroom, on the bed. "Is this Token's room?" He asked and took a swing of the wine. Which was obvious by the purple-ness and all the T's everywhere. God, Token was vain as a kid.

Craig nodded, reaching out to take a gulp of the wine himself. "Yeah." He bounced on the bed a little. Then with a grin toward Tweek he said, "You know what would reeeeaaaally creep him out?"

Tweek took his time to answer that question by taking several gulps of the sweet wine. When he felt warm enough, he just said, "Hey Craig? Remember that time you tried to kiss me before we were together and I called you a cannibal? I'm really sorry about that…"


	7. In which Tweek finds his artistic side

Outside of the dark beach house, it was quiet and peaceful with the tide coming in and out. Through the windows it could be seen that most all of the lights were off. Excepting one room on the second floor, that had a flash of white light every so often. Like lightning, only inside.

Inside, Craig looked over his camera at Tweek, who was still talking. And shaking. And crying.

"A-A-And I'm sorry that I w-was stupid enough to l-let T-T-Token get m-me to jump o-off the roof ag-g-gain." He stuttered with his spasms and his sobs as he wiped at his eyes. He hiccupped with every other word, red faced from the wine he had finished long ago.

Craig put his camera down on the floor and crawled across the bed to where Tweek sat against the head board. He kissed the blonde and pulled back to look at him sadly. "You don't have to do anything, Tweek." He kissed him again.

"Don't let anyone bully you into thinking that. Not Token. Not your parents. Not even me," Craig said on Tweek's lips. Tweek bit the inside of his cheek and nodded quickly, knowing if he tried to talk he would never be able to stop.

Craig wrapped his arms around him and held him close. "You don't have to do anything," He said again. "Unless you want to."

Tweek by now had finally stopped crying, and he leaned on Craig, holding onto his shirt. "Anything?" He asked in a broken, drunk voice.

"Anything." Craig repeated.

Tweek breathed a sigh and smiled weakly. He looked up at Craig, still smiling but red-eyed, and kissed him. "Can we go out on the beach tomorrow and take pictures? And the pier too?"

Craig smiled and nodded. "Of course." That was one disaster taken care of. Then his smile faded a little as he remembered something grim. "Tweek, I ne-"

Then Tweek's phone went off in his pocket, causing him to jump in Craig's arms as it surprised him. Then he pulled it out, flipping it open.

"Hello?" He stayed in Craig's arms as he talked. "Oh, hi dad. Where have you been? Well you guys weren't around when I was leaving... Coffee convention? Ooooh, right. _That_ coffee convention… Well, right now I'm not home… Craig… I dunno. The beach? Well, yeah, it's always… Ok… Ok. Bye."

He flipped it closed, and sighed. "I am so tired, Craig." He rubbed his stingy eyes and nuzzled the other's shirt. "SO tired."

Craig smiled and realized that he himself was pretty worn out too. "Yeah, today's been exhausting. Let's go to bed."

"This bed?"

"No, it's probably got Token-germs on it. Let's go find his parents' room."

---

When he opened his eyes Craig was greeted by a giddy Tweek with his camera hanging from his neck. Tweek smiled as Craig got up and put on a shirt.

When they got out of the house, it was still dim and grey on the beach. Rarely would a car pass by them, it was so early. Tweek ran around the beach, all excitement, and pointed out anything and everything that was even a tiny bit interesting. Smiling every time he would find a beached jelly fish or an abandoned sandcastle from summer, Craig would take a picture.

When Tweek was out of breath and sure there was nothing else unusual on the shore, Tweek crouched down over the grey sand and started a little art project. Craig was to say, a little relieved. They had been running around the beach for an hour. Luckily Tweek was too tired to venture the never-ending beach that went to the horizon.

He plopped down on the sand across from Tweek and turned off his camera. "What're you making?"

Tweek just shook his head and continued building. At first it looked like a sand castle, but a lopsided one.

Tweek glanced at the beach house, which was about a mile away at the moment, and asked, "How long are we going to stay, Craig?"

Craig also looked at the house, thinking. He hadn't considered when they'd leave at all. He's just figured until they felt like leaving, which could be never at this rate.

"I don't know. When do you want to?"

Tweek frowned while he smoothed the walls into the ground. "I don't. My dad called again this morning. He was just… being annoying about my, 'disappearance'. Said he found out about me working at Starbucks. Pissed about that. Said I betrayed Tweak Coffee… I really don't want to deal with that."

Craig nodded, knowing how crazy Mr. Tweak could be about his coffee.

"Almost done…" Tweek used a random small sea shell that was next to him and roughed out certain parts of the sand. "Annnd, there."

Craig came around to Tweek's side of the building to have a look.

It was the exact model of the beach house that you could see just passed it. They looked identical.

"That's really good Tweek," Craig congratulated while still looking from the real house to the sand sculpture. "Really good. I didn't know you did stuff like this."

"Really?" Tweek eyed the house and the model too, not seeing what was so great. "Thanks. I don't do stuff like this, not usually."

Craig stood up and turned back on his camera. He took several pictures of the sand house, then one of the real one from that distance. "Well it's good. Better then anything I've seen before."

Tweek, getting flustered from all the sudden compliments, said bashfully, "N-No… You're just saying that."

Craig grinned and knelt down to kiss Tweek on the nose. "I'm not. Let's go get some breakfast, hmm?"

Tweek nodded, smiling too, and they walked to the truck.


End file.
